It's War (AU oneshot)
Title: It's War
Author: himawarixxsandz
Rating: PG-13
Pairing(s): broken!DooSeung, 2Jun, mentions of KiWoon
Summary: All's fair in love and war
A/N: It hurts me so much that I literally haven't posted anything of substance for like two weeks straight. With the exception of that little KiWoon drabble, but I don't even count that. Ugh. I hate midterms and now they're over. I have a nice three-day weekend next week, so if the new-semester-starting homework isn't too brutal, I'll probably be able to post soon again. But I thought that since I've been gone for two weeks, I should come back with something epic. Or. As epic as I can make something. Which probably isn't a lot T^T this is literally like a play-by-play of the music video translated into fic form so now I'm starting to think that it's not as dramatic or good or angsty as I thought it should be. So just take it for what it's worth. ;____; Did anyone miss me? No? Nope? Yup. Okay T^T. Oh, personally, though, listen to this while reading. It's amazing.
Filing cabinets hit the floor, bringing down cables and wires-computer screens crackling, keyboards upended, papers scattered like snow. He’s crumpled on his side for all of two seconds before Doojoon is instantly on his knees beside him. Their eyes meet and then Doojoon’s arms are around him-protecting him (fucking shielding him) and you feel yourself spiraling out of control. They’re both bleeding and bruised (Doojoon’s entire face is black and blue and Junhyung is cut everywhere) but they’re still holding each other and neither of them seem to care that they’re both absolutely defenseless against you.
Neither of them seems to care that they could die right here and now and no one would give a shit about their lost lives-no one would hound you for it because Junhyung and Doojoon are both wanted men in one way or another anyway. You’re the only hope they have of staying alive and they don’t even seem to care. All they care about is each other.
Your hand shakes (you can’t shake-your aim, your aim) and your expression twists.
(Your finger trembles against the trigger)
Shut up-I don’t even want to hear it
Hyunseung feels a smile creep onto his face. “What?”
The sunshine crowns Doojoon’s head (like a halo?) as it pours through the windows, filtered by the sheer white curtains of the older man’s bedroom. The light dances in beams against the bare skin of Doojoon’s back as he lies on his stomach, chin propped in his arms as he gazes at Hyunseung. “Secret agents are hot. It’s like-sexy-y’know?”
The younger man laughs. “Why?” he wrinkles his nose, sliding closer, one hand stroking down the line of Doojoon’s back. “Because I can handle a gun? Or because I have to wear leather? ‘Cause I don’t have to be an agent to do that. Strippers do that too, y’know.”
Doojoon’s grin widens.
Hyunseung sticks his tongue out, getting an idea as Doojoon turns over onto his back. The agent straddles the older man, leaning in close and pinning Doojoon’s wrists tightly against the mattress. “Is it ‘cause you know I’m stronger than you?” Hyunseung whispers playfully with his lips against Doojoon’s ear.
Beg until your tears dry up
Doojoon smiles softly. “Kind of,” he says breathlessly as their eyes lock. “It’s-like-partially that.”
Hyunseung blinks-frowns in confusion.
The older man carefully slips one of his wrists out of Hyunseung’s hold, bringing his hand up to cup the agent’s face gently. The smile dances all the way to Doojoon’s eyes. “It’s because-I guess-even though you’re stronger than me, I know you’ll never hurt me.”
I will see the end of this-just watch
It’s anger.
It’s anger but-then again-at the same time, it’s something a lot worse. You don’t know what it is because words like betrayal-like disappointment, bitterness, sadness, hurt, pain-all of a sudden, words like those seem too trivial. They don’t express enough. None of those words even come close to expressing the magnitude of what’s twisted and scorched and smoldered and burned all around and into the anger that’s spiraling inside of you.
Whatever it is, it’s what fuels you to the point where you don’t even feel when Junhyung’s fist collides with your stomach. You don’t hear a single thing Doojoon is shouting at you-you don’t hear anything Junhyung is pleading. All you can see is how Doojoon and Junhyung are beside each other-they’re desperate and bleeding and bruised but they’re together-they’re on the same side-and their common enemy is you.
It’s almost laughable, really.
How the two people who made you the happiest-
How, now, you’re suddenly the only thing standing in between them and their happiness. So-really-it’d be better if you were just gone. That’s what they want, isn’t it?
You messed with the wrong person
Junhyung snorts, watching as Hyunseung’s head collapses into his arms the moment the agent sits down at his desk. The younger man prods the agent’s ear. “Hungover again? I have-like-three new cases for you. You’d better at least be able to hold a gun.”
“Fuck off,” Hyunseung mutters. “Boyfriend’s birthday last night, okay?”
The informer rolls his eyes, but he looks amused when Hyunseung finds the strength (despite his throbbing headache) to look up. “What the fuck does that have to do with anything? That’s supposed to mean you had shitloads of sex-not alcohol.”
“We had both,” Hyunseung waves a hand absentmindedly, running a hand through his hair and sighing as he forcibly sits up. He motions with his other hand at Junhyung. “C’mon-cases.”
Junhyung slaps down three files onto Hyunseung’s desk. “In whatever order you want,” he says. “Except the one with more papers looks harder and there’s sort of a deadline for it. The local police is willing to help with that one since it’s been ongoing and there’s so much information.”
The agent makes a face. “Local police? What’s wrong with me just getting Dongwoonie to help?”
“Dongwoonie isn’t the local police of that town, dipshit,” Junhyung snaps. “Read the fucking file first before giving me your princess face.”
Hyunseung grins, laughing under his breath-he catches Junhyung’s face breaking into a tiny smile too. “I got it-I got it,” he says and his hand automatically comes up to clasp Junhyung’s. “I’ll give you my princess face after I read it, good enough?”
Junhyung slaps the back of the agent’s head.
You mess with love
You hate how you can barely see. You hate so fucking much how they’re both fucking looking at you-you hate the look in their eyes. It makes you feel like you’re the monster-like you’re the villain in all of this instead of the victim. You want to scream at them-tell them and force them to remember because it seems like they don’t even bother to care right now about how, just weeks ago, they loved you. You want to scream at Doojoon because he loved you-he fucking loved you and you were his everything and he was yours (fucking yours and no one else’s).
You want to scream at Junhyung (all sorts of profanities that’ll never express what you’re feeling right now-what he’s just done to you, what kind of pain he’s just inflicted upon you). You want to make him understand the extent of what he’s just done-of what he’s been doing these past months because you trusted him. The highest level of trust-you had all of that for him and this is what he has for you.
You trusted Junhyung.
You loved Doojoon.
(You still trust them-you still love them)
You mess with friendship
Hyunseung always keeps a gun beside him-Doojoon doesn’t always know about it, guesses that Hyunseung always has a gun but more often than not Hyunseung hides it too well for Doojoon to always know. When the agent sleeps, the gun doesn’t go into the nightstand drawer; it’s banded to Hyunseung’s thigh, sometimes underneath his clothes and sometimes not.
He’s never had to use it until now.
Until the line he keeps is suddenly broken-that line that separates work and pleasure-that line that’s ripped and torn the moment the windows of their apartment are crashed through, and Hyunseung has to knock Doojoon off the bed, to the floor, wrapping his entire body over the older man as one hand wrenches the gun out of the band and aims it at the two masked figures in the room.
Two guns go off.
Just at the thought of you, my body shakes
One of them is Hyunseung’s and the other is one of the masked men’s.
The masked man that didn’t shoot-the one closest to Hyunseung-crumples to the floor lifelessly, blood already beginning to soak the mask over his head. Hyunseung only has one gun-one chance at a time-but every bullet he shoots refuses to miss its target and the second masked man follows his partner not even a second afterward (a second afterward would’ve been a second too late).
Hyunseung hits his mark, but so does the masked man.
Doojoon is curled on the floor, blood seeping from the bullet hole in his side-blood soaking the shirt-and his face is contorted in ultimate pain. There’s breath gasping through his lips and Hyunseung tucks his gun back into the band, instantly pulling one of Doojoon’s arms around the agent’s own neck and carrying the older man out of the room (filled now with broken glass and the scent of death) and into the living room.
The agent carefully puts Doojoon down on the sofa (blood is already all over Hyunseung’s hands) and tries not to look at Doojoon’s face-refuses to look at the pain all over it, wishes that the older man would just pass out because Hyunseung can’t stand Doojoon in this kind of pain (hates that this is all Hyunseung’s fault-hates that he puts Doojoon in danger).
I can’t forgive you
Hyunseung has nothing-he has nothing in the entire fucking apartment to ease Doojoon’s pain, to put Doojoon to sleep, to staunch the bleeding (towels and blankets, but nothing like what Hyunseung has back at the office). And he can’t bring Doojoon to the hospital because then they’ll be located and the men clearly wanted Doojoon otherwise they would’ve shot Doojoon to death not just in the shoulder because-
“I know,” Hyunseung whispers as Doojoon holds the agent’s hand so tightly that it literally feels like all of Hyunseung’s fingers will fall off. Hyunseung wishes he could shoot his own ears away as Doojoon shouts in pain and Hyunseung can’t even put his arms around the older man or else he’ll jostle the wound. “I know-babe-you have to let go of me, I have to get help-I have to make a call-my phone’s upst-”
Doojoon cries out again, voice dying down into a whimper as the beads of sweat stream down the sides of his face. “Hurts,” he gasps. “Hyunseung-ah-hurts-”
“I know,” and Hyunseung doesn’t mean to shout-didn’t mean to scream-but he does because he absolutely can’t see Doojoon like this and why won’t Doojoon fucking let go, “Doojoon-ah, you have to fucking let go of me so I can get help-I can’t make it stop hurting unless-”
You pretended not to know
You swallow, jaw tight, and you hate how much you’re entire body is shaking as you look at them.
And told me to forget it all
Hyunseung’s eyes stretch as the front door slams open and Junhyung strides through, rushes to Doojoon’s side with medical bags from the office-the very medical bags Hyunseung always has prepared in case Dongwoon or Kikwang come in with injuries from their cases. Doojoon still won’t let go, but Hyunseung uses his free hand to help Junhyung unload everything.
“How-” the agent starts as Junhyung dumps all of the contents out onto the floor.
“The wires you set up in the apartment that you connected to our laptops,” Junhyung says absently, eyes focused on assembling an injector. “Remember? Kikwangie was actually closer to here because he’s on an investigation but he couldn’t get away from it.”
Hyunseung is silent for a moment, as Junhyung significantly motions with his eyes at Doojoon. “Babe,” Hyunseung says quietly (he doubts Doojoon can even hear him at this point), “we’re going to knock you out, okay?”
The older man’s head turns.
The agent hates it.
He hates it-absolutely loathes-can’t stand-despises-hates how much trust there still is in Doojoon’s eyes, through the haze of delirium and pain. Hyunseung hates, even more (so much more), how much love there still is in Doojoon’s eyes. He hates it (because Hyunseung doesn’t deserve it-not anymore, not after tonight).
“Hyunseung-ah,” Doojoon whispers-breath swept from his lungs momentarily as Junhyung sinks the needle into the older man’s skin.
I trusted you-you were my friend
Doojoon might’ve been the target, but Hyunseung is the goal.
“How long?” Hyunseung asks, sitting on the edge of the bed, one hand stroking through a sleeping Doojoon’s hair. They’re in the office infirmary, with Junhyung sitting at the nearby desk, laptop in front of him. Kikwang and Dongwoon have been called off their respective investigations. They stand side-by-side near the doorway, warily watching Doojoon sleep.
Junhyung purses his lips as his eyes narrow at the screen. “Maybe a month,” he says, “and that’s at the fastest. It could be three or four.”
Hyunseung runs his free hand over his face. “Fuck.”
“It won’t be hard to uproot them, hyung,” Dongwoon offers. “I think the hard part is just locating their base and having enough evidence to back us up.”
“It’ll make him safe again,” Kikwang says, meeting Hyunseung’s eyes straight-on and Hyunseung doesn’t miss the way Kikwang and Dongwoon’s fingers thread together at those words. “You want to make him safe, don’t you?”
Hyunseung turns his gaze to Doojoon’s face.
How could you do this to me?
Doojoon isn’t doesn’t wake until later that night.
He’s in pain, he has a fever, he’s in danger, and he still smiles at Hyunseung. “The fuck are you so happy for,” the agent mutters, fingers trailing from Doojoon’s hair (matted to his forehead with feverish sweat) down against the older man’s cheek.
Doojoon laughs weakly, head shifting slowly against the pillow to meet Hyunseung’s eyes. “My boyfriend’s a badass, sexy secret agent,” he says playfully (absolutely no strength in his voice-no energy-exhausted). “I can’t be happy?”
“Your badass, sexy, secret agent boyfriend almost got you killed,” Hyunseung says and tries to sound sarcastic-tries to sound as playful as Doojoon did (doesn’t particularly work).
Doojoon’s smile loses a bit of its humor as his hand comes up to cover Hyunseung’s, taking the agent’s hand away from the older man’s face and threading their fingers together against the blankets covering Doojoon. “Wasn’t your fault,” Doojoon murmurs.
Hyunseung holds the older man’s gaze.
I will curse you from now on
Hyunseung buries his face against Junhyung’s shoulder. “Take care of him,” he whispers into the cloth of Junhyung’s shirt. The agent closes his eyes and breathes in and out slowly. Junhyung’s arms are warm and strong around Hyunseung-strong in a different way. Hyunseung’s arms are strong for putting together guns-for putting opponents into headlocks, for breaking bones and carrying boxes of drugs and weaponry into confiscation.
But Hyunseung’s strength can’t protect Doojoon.
Junhyung’s can.
“I’ll try,” Junhyung says back thickly-hoarsely (nervously?).
The agent pulls away and meets the younger man’s eyes. “You can’t try,” Hyunseung says quietly (desperately), “you have to. You have to keep him safe.”
Junhyung closes his eyes. “Okay-I will.”
Will you please shut that dirty mouth?
“I love you,” Doojoon says, gazing up at Hyunseung as the agent’s mouth hovers moments above Doojoon’s lips.
Hyunseung leans in as Doojoon tips his head up. Doojoon’s mouth tastes like medicine as Hyunseung sweeps his tongue in, lightly tracing Doojoon’s lower lip before the kiss ends. He doesn’t pull away yet, resting his forehead against Doojoon’s chest and closing his eyes. “I’m sorry,” he whispers.
The agent feels Doojoon’s fingers dip into his hair. “Just come back,” Doojoon says softly. “Come back as fast as you can.”
“I’ll make you safe again,” Hyunseung brings his head up and their gazes lock. “I promise.”
I will give back these painful tears to you
You pry them apart-it’s easy, it’s so easy for you because compared to you, they’re weak. They’re so weak. It doesn’t matter that Junhyung has been in this business for as long as you because he’s not in the same part of the business-spends all of his days behind a computer and putting pills together in the infirmary. They’re both weaker than you so you pry them apart.
You throw Doojoon to one side of the room (he crumples like a piece of paper) and you slam Junhyung against the floor, sitting on his stomach and wrapping one hand around his throat. You turn his face from side to side with the tip of your gun, eyes narrowed as you direct your voice to Doojoon.
“It was too long, wasn’t it?” you shout at the older man, collapsed just meters away against one of the knocked filing cabinets. “Three months was just too fucking long for you, right? You needed a new sexy, badass secret agent to fuck, didn’t-”
Engrave this into your ear
It takes a month.
It happens after the one-month-mark and it was never supposed to. It happens for a lot of reasons that sound like excuses regardless of how they’re phrased and worded. It happens because Doojoon isn’t as used to this as he thought he was-he reacts like any civilian forced to live under military circumstances and it doesn’t work. He isn’t allowed to contact his friends and family even though they continue to contact him and he can’t respond. He isn’t allowed out of the underground office. His wound hurts. The medicine and the painkillers are minimal.
He misses Hyunseung (can’t contact Hyunseung either).
The only contact Doojoon has is Junhyung.
It happens because, in Junhyung’s opinion, Hyunseung and Doojoon are something that never should’ve happened in the first place. In Junhyung’s opinion, the only kind of relationship that will ever work for people like them-people who dedicate their lives in secret so that everyone else can live safely in the open-the only kind of romantic relationship that would ever work is one like Kikwang and Dongwoon. One where both parties involved are just that-involved. There’s no innocent party-no innocent civilian bystander.
In Junhyung’s opinion, Hyunseung is selfish and putting Doojoon in unnecessary danger every second they are together.
Junhyung turns every offer he’s ever received down-he refuses because he can’t afford to get close to someone only to have them ripped away from him the way Doojoon was very nearly ripped away from Hyunseung. He’s turned every offer down so he never knows what it’s like-has only ever been able to watch Kikwang and Dongwoon, listen to stories from Hyunseung. He’s never been able to feel anything because he couldn’t afford to feel.
Really-it’s not like he can afford to feel now all of a sudden.
It’s just that he can’t help but feel.
I will never leave you alone
“Yah,” Junhyung stands up, striding after Doojoon. “Yah, give it the fuck back-that’s classified-”
Doojoon’s laugh cuts him off as the older man dances out of reach, holding the frame high above Junhyung’s head. “The fuck do you mean classified?” he grins. “It’s a picture of you when you were-what-five? I just want to see, Christ.”
Junhyung jumps, but Doojoon pivots around and dodges again, head tipped upward so he can look at the picture while simultaneously running away from Junhyung. “Doojoon-shii, fucking give it back,” Junhyung says (he’s not whining-fuck no), “it has nothing to do with shit.”
The older man furrows his eyebrows teasingly. “Sure it does,” Doojoon says lightly, shrugging one shoulder and holding the frame out towards Junhyung. The younger man takes it and tosses it back onto his desk. Doojoon grins. “You made a pretty cute kid.”
Junhyung rolls his eyes. “Go back to bed,” he says, retaking his seat and waking up his computer. “If you split open again, I don’t have enough bandages to patch you back up. And take some pills too-the last ones I give you are going to wear off soon.”
Doojoon perches against the edge of the table, body leaning right beside where Junhyung’s hands rest against his keyboard. “I’m not an agent,” the older man says playfully, “but I’m not as weak as you think either, y’know.”
“I know,” Junhyung says simply, keeping his eyes on the screen. “But you’re still trying to heal up from a fucking bullet so if I were you, I’d listen to me and get back in the fucking bed before you open up again.”
“Fine, fine,” Doojoon laughs lightly, giving Junhyung’s hair a quick tousle before the older man straightens up. “I’ll take a fucking nap like the good toddler I am, pump myself up with pills, and be back out here when you’re less grumpy.”
Junhyung watches him walk away. His eyes follow the strong line of Doojoon’s back, how the shoulder blades angle themselves underneath the thin t-shirt, how Doojoon’s walk is steady even with the injury. His gaze slopes Doojoon’s broad shoulders and he tries to pretend that he can’t feel his heart speeding up.
You probably knew that I would find out sometime
You fall silent-too abruptly-when you feel his throat moving against your hands. He’s trying to say something-Junhyung’s eyes are begging you to hear him, his lips are moving and he’s whispering (barely any sound, barely any oxygen in his lungs because of how you’re choking him). He’s saying something so (you must be insane-must be out of your mind to actually give him a chance to say whatever it is he’s trying to tell you) you loosen your hands enough to hear-
“Shoot me.”
Junhyung’s breathing is raspy, labored and pained and his hands (cut and bruised and weak) hold tightly onto your own. “Don’t shoot him,” he whispers almost inaudibly. “Not-don’t-his fault-Hyunseung-ah-”
She’s crying because of you again
Hyunseung grins, slapping his hand against Junhyung’s when the younger man holds his palm up for a high-five. Junhyung whistles, clearly impressed, as Hyunseung hands him the gun. “You’re fucking like Seungho-hyung,” Junhyung says as Hyunseung drops to the ground, opening a bottle of water and streaming the liquid into his mouth. “Married to guns, aren’t you?”
“I’m amazing,” Hyunseung shrugs. “I know.”
Junhyung snorts, sitting down beside him. “Bragging is for dickheads,” he says, “don’t do it. Besides-you missed that one target-the one where you had to swerve around the dummy’s vital points.” He points it out in the training field-close to where Kikwang and Dongwoon are practicing on the other side.
The agent squints in the direction Junhyung is pointing to. Hyunseung laughs, wrinkling his nose as he glances back to Junhyung once the agent realizes what Junhyung means. “I never miss,” Hyunseung says to Junhyung’s confused expression. The agent smiles lightly, tipping his head towards the sky (a clear blue today-sprinkled with bits of fluffy white). He thinks that maybe after this, he’ll call Doojoon up and ask if the older man wants to go out for brunch.
Junhyung’s eyebrows knit together. “Look, I know you’re good and all, but everyone misses some-”
“I don’t,” Hyunseung says calmly. He meets Junhyung’s eyes. “There’s a difference,” he says slowly, “between missing your target and changing it.”
She said goodbye
Doojoon shouldn’t be able to move by now, should be well on his way to unconsciousness, but somehow he does. Somehow, he miraculously does, and you watch-calmly (because you have all the time in the world-they’re the ones that don’t)-as he crawls, inch by inch, towards where you’re pressing Junhyung breathlessly against the floor. You slide off of Junhyung and let Doojoon fall on the younger man limply.
You hate them.
You hate them but you still want to understand. Somehow, you want it to make sense. You want them to tell you-to even at least try to explain to you-how and why this even happened. It would kill you over and over again but you want to know what made Doojoon stop loving you-you want to know what kind of love was so fucking strong that Junhyung decided friendship was nothing in the face of it (ten years of friendship).
You want to know what exactly was so strong-so undeniable and irresistible and tempting-that made them both turn their backs on you.
Don’t you cry
Hyunseung laughs, breathless as Doojoon’s arms wrap around the agent’s waist-pressing all the air out of the older man. The older man spins Hyunseung around until they’re both falling into the snow, cold instantly seeping into Hyunseung’s scalp as the snow soaks strands of his hair. Doojoon shifts them around so that Hyunseung is on top of the older man, cold-flushed faces just moments away from each other.
“If I get sick,” Hyunseung says as Doojoon tips his head up just enough to kiss Hyunseung’s cheeks (flushed pink from being out in the cold so long), “I’ll shoot you in the fucking head.”
Doojoon laughs. “You’re too strong to get sick,” he rolls his eyes. “There was that one time I had a sore throat but you let me fuck you, remember? And I just got sicker and you didn’t even cough once.”
“Your pansy ass immunity system has nothing to do with me being able to hold a gun, Yoon Doojoon,” Hyunseung says. He pulls one glove off with his teeth and places his hand (cold enough so that Doojoon winces) against the warm skin of the older man’s face.
Doojoon smiles. “You’re so unfair.”
The agent leans in, pressing their lips together slowly (gently) and drawing away with his tongue lingering against the older man’s mouth. “All’s fair in love and war,” Hyunseung says playfully as Doojoon’s hands lock together at the curve of Hyunseung’s back.
It’s all over now
You never miss your target, and you know that both Doojoon and Junhyung know that as you bring your gun up. Your arm doesn’t shake anymore-your body doesn’t shake, your finger is firm and steady against the trigger.
You’ve never missed a target from the moment you’ve held a gun in your hand-it’s a natural instinct for you and, in earlier days, you used to wonder what that meant. You wondered what it meant for you as a person to have a talent at ending lives-to think nothing about it because for every life you end, you save one. You’ve been told-by countless instructors-that that’s how a talent like yours should be used. Ending lives is never right, but saving lives is never wrong.
If you have to end a life, you should at least save one in return.
You’ve never and will never miss a target-
But you’ve changed targets countless times.
You feel wetness drip down against your cheek, as you watch Junhyung’s and Doojoon’s eyes widen for that split second-that quick moment it takes for you to move your arm and change your target. There’s wetness against your cheeks and cold metal against your head.
You pull the trigger.
You, who messed with my love
Author: himawarixxsandz
Rating: PG-13
Pairing(s): broken!DooSeung, 2Jun, mentions of KiWoon
Summary: All's fair in love and war
A/N: It hurts me so much that I literally haven't posted anything of substance for like two weeks straight. With the exception of that little KiWoon drabble, but I don't even count that. Ugh. I hate midterms and now they're over. I have a nice three-day weekend next week, so if the new-semester-starting homework isn't too brutal, I'll probably be able to post soon again. But I thought that since I've been gone for two weeks, I should come back with something epic. Or. As epic as I can make something. Which probably isn't a lot T^T this is literally like a play-by-play of the music video translated into fic form so now I'm starting to think that it's not as dramatic or good or angsty as I thought it should be. So just take it for what it's worth. ;____; Did anyone miss me? No? Nope? Yup. Okay T^T. Oh, personally, though, listen to this while reading. It's amazing.
Filing cabinets hit the floor, bringing down cables and wires-computer screens crackling, keyboards upended, papers scattered like snow. He’s crumpled on his side for all of two seconds before Doojoon is instantly on his knees beside him. Their eyes meet and then Doojoon’s arms are around him-protecting him (fucking shielding him) and you feel yourself spiraling out of control. They’re both bleeding and bruised (Doojoon’s entire face is black and blue and Junhyung is cut everywhere) but they’re still holding each other and neither of them seem to care that they’re both absolutely defenseless against you.
Neither of them seems to care that they could die right here and now and no one would give a shit about their lost lives-no one would hound you for it because Junhyung and Doojoon are both wanted men in one way or another anyway. You’re the only hope they have of staying alive and they don’t even seem to care. All they care about is each other.
Your hand shakes (you can’t shake-your aim, your aim) and your expression twists.
(Your finger trembles against the trigger)
Shut up-I don’t even want to hear it
Hyunseung feels a smile creep onto his face. “What?”
The sunshine crowns Doojoon’s head (like a halo?) as it pours through the windows, filtered by the sheer white curtains of the older man’s bedroom. The light dances in beams against the bare skin of Doojoon’s back as he lies on his stomach, chin propped in his arms as he gazes at Hyunseung. “Secret agents are hot. It’s like-sexy-y’know?”
The younger man laughs. “Why?” he wrinkles his nose, sliding closer, one hand stroking down the line of Doojoon’s back. “Because I can handle a gun? Or because I have to wear leather? ‘Cause I don’t have to be an agent to do that. Strippers do that too, y’know.”
Doojoon’s grin widens.
Hyunseung sticks his tongue out, getting an idea as Doojoon turns over onto his back. The agent straddles the older man, leaning in close and pinning Doojoon’s wrists tightly against the mattress. “Is it ‘cause you know I’m stronger than you?” Hyunseung whispers playfully with his lips against Doojoon’s ear.
Beg until your tears dry up
Doojoon smiles softly. “Kind of,” he says breathlessly as their eyes lock. “It’s-like-partially that.”
Hyunseung blinks-frowns in confusion.
The older man carefully slips one of his wrists out of Hyunseung’s hold, bringing his hand up to cup the agent’s face gently. The smile dances all the way to Doojoon’s eyes. “It’s because-I guess-even though you’re stronger than me, I know you’ll never hurt me.”
I will see the end of this-just watch
It’s anger.
It’s anger but-then again-at the same time, it’s something a lot worse. You don’t know what it is because words like betrayal-like disappointment, bitterness, sadness, hurt, pain-all of a sudden, words like those seem too trivial. They don’t express enough. None of those words even come close to expressing the magnitude of what’s twisted and scorched and smoldered and burned all around and into the anger that’s spiraling inside of you.
Whatever it is, it’s what fuels you to the point where you don’t even feel when Junhyung’s fist collides with your stomach. You don’t hear a single thing Doojoon is shouting at you-you don’t hear anything Junhyung is pleading. All you can see is how Doojoon and Junhyung are beside each other-they’re desperate and bleeding and bruised but they’re together-they’re on the same side-and their common enemy is you.
It’s almost laughable, really.
How the two people who made you the happiest-
How, now, you’re suddenly the only thing standing in between them and their happiness. So-really-it’d be better if you were just gone. That’s what they want, isn’t it?
You messed with the wrong person
Junhyung snorts, watching as Hyunseung’s head collapses into his arms the moment the agent sits down at his desk. The younger man prods the agent’s ear. “Hungover again? I have-like-three new cases for you. You’d better at least be able to hold a gun.”
“Fuck off,” Hyunseung mutters. “Boyfriend’s birthday last night, okay?”
The informer rolls his eyes, but he looks amused when Hyunseung finds the strength (despite his throbbing headache) to look up. “What the fuck does that have to do with anything? That’s supposed to mean you had shitloads of sex-not alcohol.”
“We had both,” Hyunseung waves a hand absentmindedly, running a hand through his hair and sighing as he forcibly sits up. He motions with his other hand at Junhyung. “C’mon-cases.”
Junhyung slaps down three files onto Hyunseung’s desk. “In whatever order you want,” he says. “Except the one with more papers looks harder and there’s sort of a deadline for it. The local police is willing to help with that one since it’s been ongoing and there’s so much information.”
The agent makes a face. “Local police? What’s wrong with me just getting Dongwoonie to help?”
“Dongwoonie isn’t the local police of that town, dipshit,” Junhyung snaps. “Read the fucking file first before giving me your princess face.”
Hyunseung grins, laughing under his breath-he catches Junhyung’s face breaking into a tiny smile too. “I got it-I got it,” he says and his hand automatically comes up to clasp Junhyung’s. “I’ll give you my princess face after I read it, good enough?”
Junhyung slaps the back of the agent’s head.
You mess with love
You hate how you can barely see. You hate so fucking much how they’re both fucking looking at you-you hate the look in their eyes. It makes you feel like you’re the monster-like you’re the villain in all of this instead of the victim. You want to scream at them-tell them and force them to remember because it seems like they don’t even bother to care right now about how, just weeks ago, they loved you. You want to scream at Doojoon because he loved you-he fucking loved you and you were his everything and he was yours (fucking yours and no one else’s).
You want to scream at Junhyung (all sorts of profanities that’ll never express what you’re feeling right now-what he’s just done to you, what kind of pain he’s just inflicted upon you). You want to make him understand the extent of what he’s just done-of what he’s been doing these past months because you trusted him. The highest level of trust-you had all of that for him and this is what he has for you.
You trusted Junhyung.
You loved Doojoon.
(You still trust them-you still love them)
You mess with friendship
Hyunseung always keeps a gun beside him-Doojoon doesn’t always know about it, guesses that Hyunseung always has a gun but more often than not Hyunseung hides it too well for Doojoon to always know. When the agent sleeps, the gun doesn’t go into the nightstand drawer; it’s banded to Hyunseung’s thigh, sometimes underneath his clothes and sometimes not.
He’s never had to use it until now.
Until the line he keeps is suddenly broken-that line that separates work and pleasure-that line that’s ripped and torn the moment the windows of their apartment are crashed through, and Hyunseung has to knock Doojoon off the bed, to the floor, wrapping his entire body over the older man as one hand wrenches the gun out of the band and aims it at the two masked figures in the room.
Two guns go off.
Just at the thought of you, my body shakes
One of them is Hyunseung’s and the other is one of the masked men’s.
The masked man that didn’t shoot-the one closest to Hyunseung-crumples to the floor lifelessly, blood already beginning to soak the mask over his head. Hyunseung only has one gun-one chance at a time-but every bullet he shoots refuses to miss its target and the second masked man follows his partner not even a second afterward (a second afterward would’ve been a second too late).
Hyunseung hits his mark, but so does the masked man.
Doojoon is curled on the floor, blood seeping from the bullet hole in his side-blood soaking the shirt-and his face is contorted in ultimate pain. There’s breath gasping through his lips and Hyunseung tucks his gun back into the band, instantly pulling one of Doojoon’s arms around the agent’s own neck and carrying the older man out of the room (filled now with broken glass and the scent of death) and into the living room.
The agent carefully puts Doojoon down on the sofa (blood is already all over Hyunseung’s hands) and tries not to look at Doojoon’s face-refuses to look at the pain all over it, wishes that the older man would just pass out because Hyunseung can’t stand Doojoon in this kind of pain (hates that this is all Hyunseung’s fault-hates that he puts Doojoon in danger).
I can’t forgive you
Hyunseung has nothing-he has nothing in the entire fucking apartment to ease Doojoon’s pain, to put Doojoon to sleep, to staunch the bleeding (towels and blankets, but nothing like what Hyunseung has back at the office). And he can’t bring Doojoon to the hospital because then they’ll be located and the men clearly wanted Doojoon otherwise they would’ve shot Doojoon to death not just in the shoulder because-
“I know,” Hyunseung whispers as Doojoon holds the agent’s hand so tightly that it literally feels like all of Hyunseung’s fingers will fall off. Hyunseung wishes he could shoot his own ears away as Doojoon shouts in pain and Hyunseung can’t even put his arms around the older man or else he’ll jostle the wound. “I know-babe-you have to let go of me, I have to get help-I have to make a call-my phone’s upst-”
Doojoon cries out again, voice dying down into a whimper as the beads of sweat stream down the sides of his face. “Hurts,” he gasps. “Hyunseung-ah-hurts-”
“I know,” and Hyunseung doesn’t mean to shout-didn’t mean to scream-but he does because he absolutely can’t see Doojoon like this and why won’t Doojoon fucking let go, “Doojoon-ah, you have to fucking let go of me so I can get help-I can’t make it stop hurting unless-”
You pretended not to know
You swallow, jaw tight, and you hate how much you’re entire body is shaking as you look at them.
And told me to forget it all
Hyunseung’s eyes stretch as the front door slams open and Junhyung strides through, rushes to Doojoon’s side with medical bags from the office-the very medical bags Hyunseung always has prepared in case Dongwoon or Kikwang come in with injuries from their cases. Doojoon still won’t let go, but Hyunseung uses his free hand to help Junhyung unload everything.
“How-” the agent starts as Junhyung dumps all of the contents out onto the floor.
“The wires you set up in the apartment that you connected to our laptops,” Junhyung says absently, eyes focused on assembling an injector. “Remember? Kikwangie was actually closer to here because he’s on an investigation but he couldn’t get away from it.”
Hyunseung is silent for a moment, as Junhyung significantly motions with his eyes at Doojoon. “Babe,” Hyunseung says quietly (he doubts Doojoon can even hear him at this point), “we’re going to knock you out, okay?”
The older man’s head turns.
The agent hates it.
He hates it-absolutely loathes-can’t stand-despises-hates how much trust there still is in Doojoon’s eyes, through the haze of delirium and pain. Hyunseung hates, even more (so much more), how much love there still is in Doojoon’s eyes. He hates it (because Hyunseung doesn’t deserve it-not anymore, not after tonight).
“Hyunseung-ah,” Doojoon whispers-breath swept from his lungs momentarily as Junhyung sinks the needle into the older man’s skin.
I trusted you-you were my friend
Doojoon might’ve been the target, but Hyunseung is the goal.
“How long?” Hyunseung asks, sitting on the edge of the bed, one hand stroking through a sleeping Doojoon’s hair. They’re in the office infirmary, with Junhyung sitting at the nearby desk, laptop in front of him. Kikwang and Dongwoon have been called off their respective investigations. They stand side-by-side near the doorway, warily watching Doojoon sleep.
Junhyung purses his lips as his eyes narrow at the screen. “Maybe a month,” he says, “and that’s at the fastest. It could be three or four.”
Hyunseung runs his free hand over his face. “Fuck.”
“It won’t be hard to uproot them, hyung,” Dongwoon offers. “I think the hard part is just locating their base and having enough evidence to back us up.”
“It’ll make him safe again,” Kikwang says, meeting Hyunseung’s eyes straight-on and Hyunseung doesn’t miss the way Kikwang and Dongwoon’s fingers thread together at those words. “You want to make him safe, don’t you?”
Hyunseung turns his gaze to Doojoon’s face.
How could you do this to me?
Doojoon isn’t doesn’t wake until later that night.
He’s in pain, he has a fever, he’s in danger, and he still smiles at Hyunseung. “The fuck are you so happy for,” the agent mutters, fingers trailing from Doojoon’s hair (matted to his forehead with feverish sweat) down against the older man’s cheek.
Doojoon laughs weakly, head shifting slowly against the pillow to meet Hyunseung’s eyes. “My boyfriend’s a badass, sexy secret agent,” he says playfully (absolutely no strength in his voice-no energy-exhausted). “I can’t be happy?”
“Your badass, sexy, secret agent boyfriend almost got you killed,” Hyunseung says and tries to sound sarcastic-tries to sound as playful as Doojoon did (doesn’t particularly work).
Doojoon’s smile loses a bit of its humor as his hand comes up to cover Hyunseung’s, taking the agent’s hand away from the older man’s face and threading their fingers together against the blankets covering Doojoon. “Wasn’t your fault,” Doojoon murmurs.
Hyunseung holds the older man’s gaze.
I will curse you from now on
Hyunseung buries his face against Junhyung’s shoulder. “Take care of him,” he whispers into the cloth of Junhyung’s shirt. The agent closes his eyes and breathes in and out slowly. Junhyung’s arms are warm and strong around Hyunseung-strong in a different way. Hyunseung’s arms are strong for putting together guns-for putting opponents into headlocks, for breaking bones and carrying boxes of drugs and weaponry into confiscation.
But Hyunseung’s strength can’t protect Doojoon.
Junhyung’s can.
“I’ll try,” Junhyung says back thickly-hoarsely (nervously?).
The agent pulls away and meets the younger man’s eyes. “You can’t try,” Hyunseung says quietly (desperately), “you have to. You have to keep him safe.”
Junhyung closes his eyes. “Okay-I will.”
Will you please shut that dirty mouth?
“I love you,” Doojoon says, gazing up at Hyunseung as the agent’s mouth hovers moments above Doojoon’s lips.
Hyunseung leans in as Doojoon tips his head up. Doojoon’s mouth tastes like medicine as Hyunseung sweeps his tongue in, lightly tracing Doojoon’s lower lip before the kiss ends. He doesn’t pull away yet, resting his forehead against Doojoon’s chest and closing his eyes. “I’m sorry,” he whispers.
The agent feels Doojoon’s fingers dip into his hair. “Just come back,” Doojoon says softly. “Come back as fast as you can.”
“I’ll make you safe again,” Hyunseung brings his head up and their gazes lock. “I promise.”
I will give back these painful tears to you
You pry them apart-it’s easy, it’s so easy for you because compared to you, they’re weak. They’re so weak. It doesn’t matter that Junhyung has been in this business for as long as you because he’s not in the same part of the business-spends all of his days behind a computer and putting pills together in the infirmary. They’re both weaker than you so you pry them apart.
You throw Doojoon to one side of the room (he crumples like a piece of paper) and you slam Junhyung against the floor, sitting on his stomach and wrapping one hand around his throat. You turn his face from side to side with the tip of your gun, eyes narrowed as you direct your voice to Doojoon.
“It was too long, wasn’t it?” you shout at the older man, collapsed just meters away against one of the knocked filing cabinets. “Three months was just too fucking long for you, right? You needed a new sexy, badass secret agent to fuck, didn’t-”
Engrave this into your ear
It takes a month.
It happens after the one-month-mark and it was never supposed to. It happens for a lot of reasons that sound like excuses regardless of how they’re phrased and worded. It happens because Doojoon isn’t as used to this as he thought he was-he reacts like any civilian forced to live under military circumstances and it doesn’t work. He isn’t allowed to contact his friends and family even though they continue to contact him and he can’t respond. He isn’t allowed out of the underground office. His wound hurts. The medicine and the painkillers are minimal.
He misses Hyunseung (can’t contact Hyunseung either).
The only contact Doojoon has is Junhyung.
It happens because, in Junhyung’s opinion, Hyunseung and Doojoon are something that never should’ve happened in the first place. In Junhyung’s opinion, the only kind of relationship that will ever work for people like them-people who dedicate their lives in secret so that everyone else can live safely in the open-the only kind of romantic relationship that would ever work is one like Kikwang and Dongwoon. One where both parties involved are just that-involved. There’s no innocent party-no innocent civilian bystander.
In Junhyung’s opinion, Hyunseung is selfish and putting Doojoon in unnecessary danger every second they are together.
Junhyung turns every offer he’s ever received down-he refuses because he can’t afford to get close to someone only to have them ripped away from him the way Doojoon was very nearly ripped away from Hyunseung. He’s turned every offer down so he never knows what it’s like-has only ever been able to watch Kikwang and Dongwoon, listen to stories from Hyunseung. He’s never been able to feel anything because he couldn’t afford to feel.
Really-it’s not like he can afford to feel now all of a sudden.
It’s just that he can’t help but feel.
I will never leave you alone
“Yah,” Junhyung stands up, striding after Doojoon. “Yah, give it the fuck back-that’s classified-”
Doojoon’s laugh cuts him off as the older man dances out of reach, holding the frame high above Junhyung’s head. “The fuck do you mean classified?” he grins. “It’s a picture of you when you were-what-five? I just want to see, Christ.”
Junhyung jumps, but Doojoon pivots around and dodges again, head tipped upward so he can look at the picture while simultaneously running away from Junhyung. “Doojoon-shii, fucking give it back,” Junhyung says (he’s not whining-fuck no), “it has nothing to do with shit.”
The older man furrows his eyebrows teasingly. “Sure it does,” Doojoon says lightly, shrugging one shoulder and holding the frame out towards Junhyung. The younger man takes it and tosses it back onto his desk. Doojoon grins. “You made a pretty cute kid.”
Junhyung rolls his eyes. “Go back to bed,” he says, retaking his seat and waking up his computer. “If you split open again, I don’t have enough bandages to patch you back up. And take some pills too-the last ones I give you are going to wear off soon.”
Doojoon perches against the edge of the table, body leaning right beside where Junhyung’s hands rest against his keyboard. “I’m not an agent,” the older man says playfully, “but I’m not as weak as you think either, y’know.”
“I know,” Junhyung says simply, keeping his eyes on the screen. “But you’re still trying to heal up from a fucking bullet so if I were you, I’d listen to me and get back in the fucking bed before you open up again.”
“Fine, fine,” Doojoon laughs lightly, giving Junhyung’s hair a quick tousle before the older man straightens up. “I’ll take a fucking nap like the good toddler I am, pump myself up with pills, and be back out here when you’re less grumpy.”
Junhyung watches him walk away. His eyes follow the strong line of Doojoon’s back, how the shoulder blades angle themselves underneath the thin t-shirt, how Doojoon’s walk is steady even with the injury. His gaze slopes Doojoon’s broad shoulders and he tries to pretend that he can’t feel his heart speeding up.
You probably knew that I would find out sometime
You fall silent-too abruptly-when you feel his throat moving against your hands. He’s trying to say something-Junhyung’s eyes are begging you to hear him, his lips are moving and he’s whispering (barely any sound, barely any oxygen in his lungs because of how you’re choking him). He’s saying something so (you must be insane-must be out of your mind to actually give him a chance to say whatever it is he’s trying to tell you) you loosen your hands enough to hear-
“Shoot me.”
Junhyung’s breathing is raspy, labored and pained and his hands (cut and bruised and weak) hold tightly onto your own. “Don’t shoot him,” he whispers almost inaudibly. “Not-don’t-his fault-Hyunseung-ah-”
She’s crying because of you again
Hyunseung grins, slapping his hand against Junhyung’s when the younger man holds his palm up for a high-five. Junhyung whistles, clearly impressed, as Hyunseung hands him the gun. “You’re fucking like Seungho-hyung,” Junhyung says as Hyunseung drops to the ground, opening a bottle of water and streaming the liquid into his mouth. “Married to guns, aren’t you?”
“I’m amazing,” Hyunseung shrugs. “I know.”
Junhyung snorts, sitting down beside him. “Bragging is for dickheads,” he says, “don’t do it. Besides-you missed that one target-the one where you had to swerve around the dummy’s vital points.” He points it out in the training field-close to where Kikwang and Dongwoon are practicing on the other side.
The agent squints in the direction Junhyung is pointing to. Hyunseung laughs, wrinkling his nose as he glances back to Junhyung once the agent realizes what Junhyung means. “I never miss,” Hyunseung says to Junhyung’s confused expression. The agent smiles lightly, tipping his head towards the sky (a clear blue today-sprinkled with bits of fluffy white). He thinks that maybe after this, he’ll call Doojoon up and ask if the older man wants to go out for brunch.
Junhyung’s eyebrows knit together. “Look, I know you’re good and all, but everyone misses some-”
“I don’t,” Hyunseung says calmly. He meets Junhyung’s eyes. “There’s a difference,” he says slowly, “between missing your target and changing it.”
She said goodbye
Doojoon shouldn’t be able to move by now, should be well on his way to unconsciousness, but somehow he does. Somehow, he miraculously does, and you watch-calmly (because you have all the time in the world-they’re the ones that don’t)-as he crawls, inch by inch, towards where you’re pressing Junhyung breathlessly against the floor. You slide off of Junhyung and let Doojoon fall on the younger man limply.
You hate them.
You hate them but you still want to understand. Somehow, you want it to make sense. You want them to tell you-to even at least try to explain to you-how and why this even happened. It would kill you over and over again but you want to know what made Doojoon stop loving you-you want to know what kind of love was so fucking strong that Junhyung decided friendship was nothing in the face of it (ten years of friendship).
You want to know what exactly was so strong-so undeniable and irresistible and tempting-that made them both turn their backs on you.
Don’t you cry
Hyunseung laughs, breathless as Doojoon’s arms wrap around the agent’s waist-pressing all the air out of the older man. The older man spins Hyunseung around until they’re both falling into the snow, cold instantly seeping into Hyunseung’s scalp as the snow soaks strands of his hair. Doojoon shifts them around so that Hyunseung is on top of the older man, cold-flushed faces just moments away from each other.
“If I get sick,” Hyunseung says as Doojoon tips his head up just enough to kiss Hyunseung’s cheeks (flushed pink from being out in the cold so long), “I’ll shoot you in the fucking head.”
Doojoon laughs. “You’re too strong to get sick,” he rolls his eyes. “There was that one time I had a sore throat but you let me fuck you, remember? And I just got sicker and you didn’t even cough once.”
“Your pansy ass immunity system has nothing to do with me being able to hold a gun, Yoon Doojoon,” Hyunseung says. He pulls one glove off with his teeth and places his hand (cold enough so that Doojoon winces) against the warm skin of the older man’s face.
Doojoon smiles. “You’re so unfair.”
The agent leans in, pressing their lips together slowly (gently) and drawing away with his tongue lingering against the older man’s mouth. “All’s fair in love and war,” Hyunseung says playfully as Doojoon’s hands lock together at the curve of Hyunseung’s back.
It’s all over now
You never miss your target, and you know that both Doojoon and Junhyung know that as you bring your gun up. Your arm doesn’t shake anymore-your body doesn’t shake, your finger is firm and steady against the trigger.
You’ve never missed a target from the moment you’ve held a gun in your hand-it’s a natural instinct for you and, in earlier days, you used to wonder what that meant. You wondered what it meant for you as a person to have a talent at ending lives-to think nothing about it because for every life you end, you save one. You’ve been told-by countless instructors-that that’s how a talent like yours should be used. Ending lives is never right, but saving lives is never wrong.
If you have to end a life, you should at least save one in return.
You’ve never and will never miss a target-
But you’ve changed targets countless times.
You feel wetness drip down against your cheek, as you watch Junhyung’s and Doojoon’s eyes widen for that split second-that quick moment it takes for you to move your arm and change your target. There’s wetness against your cheeks and cold metal against your head.
You pull the trigger.
You, who messed with my love